Dark Castle Survivor
by Hekasha
Summary: A scary-as-hell island. A depraved host. Sixteen of your favourite Dark Castle characters. 45 days. One Dark Castle Survivor!
1. Arrival

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Castle, or any rights to any of their movies, settings or characters. Sad, but true.

A/N: Well. I know this sounds bonkers, but hear me out. I saw a commercial for Survivor All-Stars on TV a few weeks ago and it hit me: why not make our own survivor show, with my favourite movie characters, the Dark Castle gang? I know, I know, most fics like this are not well-done and are written with more speed than skill. I assure you this will not be the case. I will write this fic in a humorous manner while up keeping my solid track record for writing. I have decided to use canon characters from only the first three Dark Castle movies, namely House on Haunted Hill, Thir13en Ghosts, and Ghost Ship, mostly because I haven't yet seen Gothika. Who knows, maybe some of the characters from Gothika will make an appearance later on, as a wild card round or something? It's all up to my imagination, buahaha!! I hope all my beloved readers will follow me here to the Crossover section, as I didn't feel comfortable putting it anywhere else. Finally, I hope you guys all enjoy this story and review it as nicely as you did my previous two.

Chapter 1: Arrival

It was dark. Not the dark of a city with streetlights illuminating every corner, but the blind, deadly darkness that's only relief comes from the faint light given off by the stars and the sickle moon overhead. Clouds scudded by in the tropical air, carving flickering shadows out of the world.

Far from any civilization, in a dark sea removed from the eyes of mankind, an island hunched quietly in the night. Its sandy shores glowed a pale white in the wan starlight, the only sound the rustling of the tropical forest at its center and the small noises made by the nocturnal denizens of the island as they hunted. Shadows crawled over the island, hiding and revealing as they chose. The aroma of tropical flowers mixed with the odor of the sea: salt, seaweed and rotting fish.

Suddenly, another shadow appeared to meld with the others. It was the form of a young woman, dressed all in black. She materialized on the beach with a swirl of her silken cloak and straightened fully, her lithe form limned in starlight and shadows. She pulled back her dark hood and shook out a wave of dark auburn hair that fell to her mid-back, her green-blue eyes arrogantly surveying her surroundings.

She smiled, satisfied, and began to walk up the beach, toward the edge of the forest. She was barefoot, wearing a long gown of black silk with a cowled cloak. Her nails were long and painted black, and her bright eyes were lined with kohl. She smirked as she found a sea-smoothed piece of driftwood and settled herself upon it, folding her skirt daintily over her knees as she crossed them. Placing her hands in her lap, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the night air. Marvelous. Now, to wait for her guests to arrive…

The woman opened her eyes and scanned the beach, craning he head to look at the moon as it climbed to its zenith. It was almost there. Just another few minutes…

Just as the moon hit its highest point in the sky, a loud thud was heard behind the woman. She whipped around as a low moan was heard from the direction of the commotion. Grinning, she sprang off the log and moved swiftly through the underbrush, toward the source of the sound. A few meters away from her quarry, she stopped. 

The latest arrival, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a rumpled appearance, looked up at her with frightened eyes. Smiling, she reached out a hand and, with surprising strength, yanked him to his feet.

He stumbled against her for a minute then, clearing his throat, he pushed her away, brushing at his torn and bloody sleeves.

"Who the Hell are you?" he asked coldly, turning on her, "And where is this?"

The woman continued to smile that slightly eerie smile. "My name," she said in a high, feminine voice, "is Hekasha. This," she said, waving her arm gracefully to encompass their surroundings, "Is the Dark Isle. Your new home."

The man said nothing for a minute, only staring at her with a queer light in his eyes.

"Steven Price, I presume?" Hekasha continued, raising an eyebrow. The man's expression changed from scorn to fear.

"Who the hell are you? And how do you know my name?" he asked, backing away.

Hekasha laughed; a full and slightly scary sound. "I told you," she drawled, obviously having a lot of fun, "My name is Hekasha. That is all you have to know. I know about you through…sources of mine, and I'm aware that you were recently trapped in a certain psychiatric hospital, am I right?"

Price just gawped.

"Close your mouth, dear," Hekasha laughed, "I hear the flies around here are poisonous."

Price's mouth snapped shut. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by yet another crash in the underbrush, signaling the arrival of yet another guest. Delighted, Hekasha clapped her hands and squealed with glee.

"If you'll excuse me," she said to Price over her shoulder, "I have other guests to attend to at the moment."

She moved away, leaving Price alone in the shadows and stillness. He had no idea what he was doing here or who this woman was, but after his recent fate in the Vanacutt facility, he wasn't in the mood to be left alone again. Running slightly, he caught up with Hekasha just as she approached the next arrival: a young girl with rusty red hair and a blue dress that appeared to have been in fashion in the 1950's. The girl pushed herself up to a sitting position and screamed when she caught sight of the figures looming over her.

"Hush," Hekasha intoned, grabbing the girl's arm, "Its okay. We won't hurt you."

The girl tried valiantly to escape Hekasha's grip, but the woman held on tight.

"Katie," she hissed, and the girl stopped dead.

"H-how do you know my name?" Katie Harwood whispered in her prim English accent, her eyes darting to the scary-looking man behind her captor.

Hekasha smiled down at Katie. "I know all about you, Katie. Poor dear. My name is Hekasha, and this," she pointed back at her companion, "is Steven. Come with us, alright sweetie?"

Katie hesitated for a moment, obviously not trusting this black-clad apparition. Suddenly, the girl caught sight of something moving in the underbrush. As she turned to look at it, she saw the tail end of a huge snake go slithering away through the ferns. Shrieking, she fell back against Hekasha. Swallowing visibly, she decided maybe she could trust the woman – at least until she was out of this frightening jungle and back where she should be.

Nodding feverishly, Katie straightened and smoothed her dress with her hands. Responding to Hekasha's gentle tug, the young girl followed the slim woman and her silent male companion through the thick undergrowth.

After a few moments, Katie managed to muster the courage to tug at Hekasha's sleeve. "Where are we?" she hissed, afraid to raise her voice lest some frightful night creature come and swoop her away. It would be just her luck, she thought wryly. Just when she thought she was finally free of this earth and everyone in it, here she was in some strange jungle with an even stranger woman and man.

Hekasha turned toward the frightened child and crooned, "This is the Dark Isle, Katie. But I'll explain further once the others get here."

This roused a startled reaction from Price. "Others?" he spat, his fear still causing his voice to quake despite his insistent manner, "What others? You had better explain what's going on pretty damn quick, or I'll-"

No sooner had the words left his mouth when a now-familiar "oof" was heard, accompanied by a thud and a groan of pain and surprise.

Hekasha straightened, grinning with depraved excitement, and took off in the direction of the noise, leaving her two charges to follow laboriously after her.

They caught up with her in yet another clearing, this time looming over a flustered-looking man looking to be about forty-ish. The man had a shock of curly brown hair and was wearing a somewhat rumpled pair of cotton pants, a wrinkled dress shirt and a ripped and bloodied brown sports jacket. The man looked like he had just been to Hell and back.

This guy managed to attain a standing position on his own, and to his credit did not scream. In fact, he only blinked a few times in shock before whipping around in a circle, obviously looking for something.

"What the…" he muttered, pointedly ignoring the strange woman behind him. After what he had just been through, suddenly appearing in a jungle with a black-clad woman, a creepy old man and an oddly-dressed little girl didn't even phase him. What set his blood to boiling in panic was the absence of his kids.

"Kathy!" he yelled, "Bobby! Maggie? Where are you?"

When no answer seemed forthcoming from the night jungle, Arthur Kriticos swung on the woman who stood exactly where he had found her, watching him with amusement in her star-bright eyes.

"Where the hell are my kids? Who are you? Where the hell am I? Is this some kind of sick joke or something?"

Without waiting for a response, Arthur swung around again, once more calling out for his kids. He didn't understand. One moment he had been in the broken glass house, holding his kids, and the next he was lying facedown in some ferns. What the hell was going on here?

Taking a deep breath, Arthur's gaze darted to the silent pair off to the edge of the clearing, then settled again on Hekasha. 

"Well?" he demanded.

Hekasha held out a hand. "Arthur, Arthur, not to worry. Your kids are fine. They're exactly where you left them. You, on the other hand, have been chosen for another – adventure."

This declaration was accompanied by a cheeky grin that belied her demure appearance.

Arthur blinked, gritted his teeth, and took a deep breath. He had already been through enough scary, supernatural shit tonight. He had had enough crazy young women – and old men, he thought, shooting an apprehensive glance at Price - for this lifetime. And then there was that macabre-looking little girl…

"Well," he said patiently, in his usual calm, there-must-be-a-logical-explanation fashion, "Can you at least tell me where I am?"

"Hekasha smiled graciously. 

"Of course, Arthur. This is the Dark Isle, an island secluded in an un-traveled portion of the Pacific Ocean. It has been chosen to be the site of the largest, most elaborate supernatural game in HISTORY!" The woman looked about to burst with contained excitement, "And I get to host it."

"What?" Price demanded, "This is a GAME? Madam, I consider myself the expert in the area of twisted games, but this is beyond even my imagination."

Hekasha turned on Steven, her eyes brimming with energy, "I know that very well, dear Steven. That is why you have been chosen for this game."

For the first time in a while, Katie stirred.

"A game? So this isn't…dangerous?"

All three arrivals looked at Hekasha pleadingly.

Hekasha smiled apologetically – almost. "I'm afraid, my dear, that that's not entirely true. But the details will have to wait until later, because if I'm not mistaken, here comes another player…"

A loud crunch was heard, followed by some loud and creative swearing. The foursome swung around to face a young, blonde woman rising to her feet in the underbrush, still muttering expletives.

She looked up and froze when she saw the motley group before her, but rather than screaming or running, she picked out a familiar face among them.

"Steven? Steven Price? Is that you?"

"Melissa?" Steven asked, "I thought you were…'

"I am…well, I was…"

The young woman looked flustered, and was absently picking brambles out of her tangled blonde hair.

Hekasha stepped forward.

"Hello, Ms. Marr. I'm Hekasha. Welcome to the Dark Isle, and the biggest adventure of your life."

If Melissa was shocked to find herself in a jungle face to face with an odd assortment of strangers, she didn't show it. After all, it couldn't be any worse that being trapped in that freaky old mental hospital. She shivered as a breeze swept over the island. What she didn't understand is how she was suddenly very much alive again.

As if reading her mind, Hekasha spoke up into the silence, "I suppose you're wondering why you're alive again. In this game, the standings must be equal, which means the advantage of being dead and therefore invincible has been removed. The same goes with all of our contestants."

A gasp was heard as Katie looked down at herself.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," Hekasha responded.

"Contestants? Game? Okay, now I want an explanation. I'm getting really sick of games where dying is an option – or a handicap." Melissa made a face. "And who the hell are these people?" She looked around at the faces in the clearing as if they were as far below her as slug slime. Melissa Marr hadn't changed much since her experience in the Vanacutt facility, and, being a journalist, her curiosity had to be satisfied.

Introductions were made and, as usual, Hekasha refused to give out more information about this 'game' until the other contestants arrived. And after that, they started arriving rather quickly. 

First there was Sean Murphy, the captain of the Arctic Warrior who growled a bit and swore like a sailor until the next person arrived, who happened to be Arthur's nanny Maggie. Happy to see someone they recognized, Maggie and Arthur clung closely to each other, Maggie eyeing all the 'crazy white people' around ther and muttering to herself about job descriptions.

The next contestants arrived all at once, in a group of four: Cyrus Kriticos, who sneered at them all, eyed Arthur carefully, and fell silent, brooding. Watson Pritchet, the twitchy little caretaker of the Vanacutt hospital, who after getting none of his questions answered fell in beside Melissa and Steven. Francesca, the beautiful Italian singer, who used her broken English to curse Hekasha and all of them before she, too, fell silent, her full lips forming an attractive pout and all too aware that Watson was watching her a bit to closely. And Evelyn Price, who after surveying them all picked out her late husband, walked up to him and slapped him upside the head. A small scuffle ensued until Hekasha pulled a flare gun out of this air and fired it into the air yelling, "Shut up!"

The group fell silent for a few minutes, each member shooting glances at the others, until the next group showed up.

Blonde-haired, blue-eyed Dodge, one of Murphy's crew, proceeded straight to the old captain's side. Kalina Oretzia, the ditzy amateur sorcerer, picked her way like a frightened deer over to Arthur, eyeing Cyrus timidly the whole time. Next was Sara Jennings, one of the two survivors of that fateful night at the Vanacutt hospital. Sara scowled and picked her way over to stand with Melissa, Steven and Watson. Next was Jack Ferriman, soul-stealer extraordinaire, who after frowning at the whole lot and receiving some pointed comments from Dodge and Murphy, went to stand next to Francesca, who was already batting her long eyelashes in Watson's direction.

Hekasha watched all this play out, the flare gun still in her hand like a deadly weapon, threatening were another fight to break out. Animosity showed in the eyes of archenemies and strangers alike, but nobody said a word, all silently waiting.

After a few moments of nothing happening, Evelyn Price raised her sculpted eyebrows in question.

"Well?" she asked, trying to sound disdainful through her fear, "Is that it?"

"Nearly," Hekasha said as another crunch was heard.

This time, the arrival was that of Dennis Rafkin, who opened his mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again and said, "Arthur? What are you doing here? You're not dead, are you? You shouldn't be dead. You survived, right? Oh shit, Arthur, I'm sorry…"

Arthur shook his head, ending the young man's flustered babbling.

"No, Dennis, I'm alive. I think. And so are you. I think. Just come here."

Dennis made his way shakily toward Arthur, but broke off when he saw Cyrus and Kalina lurking at the back of the group.

"What are they doing here? Who are these people?"

Hekasha opened her mouth to give her familiar spiel, but another thud was heard, and she changed her mind.

"It looks like our final guest has arrived," she said brightly.

Turning around, the group saw the curly-haired, bedraggled form of Maureen Epps rise from the pile of ferns she had landed in.

Looking around, Epps' eyes skipped the people she didn't know, settled on Murphy and Dodge and widened, then focused on Jack.

"YOU!" she screamed, and threw herself blindly at him.

In another surprising show of strength, Hekasha threw out an arm and caught Epps around the waist, holding her back.

"Hold on a minute, hon," she said kindly, as if to a recalcitrant three-year-old, "You don't want to kill him - just yet. Now, if you'll all accompany me to the beach, this will all be explained in full and our little game can begin."

Everyone looked around at each other, their enmity, friendship and distrust for one another smothered by fear, uncertainty, and dread of this small woman who was capable of holding back 125 pounds of enraged salvager.

Silent as the grave, the motley procession followed Hekasha out of the jungle and onto the starlit beach.

A/N: Okay, there's the first chapter. I know I didn't characterize a lot of the characters properly, because if I had this chapter would be novel-length. So bear with me and never fear, your favourite characters will receive the attention that it their due. The next chapter will be coming up quickly, so atayposted and don't forget to review with your criticism, complaints, suggestion, corrections, flames, anything! But tell me what you think, comprendez-vous? Oui? Bon. Merci!


	2. Dangerous Game

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the Dark Castle movies or the Survivor game show. I do, however, own Hekasha (myself), the Dark Isle, and the voices in my head…er, my muse. Right.

A/N: Hey there everyone. I'm new to this section, but I hope all my readers will come find me soon. I'm review-dry. *sniff* Now, sorry about the previous chapter. I wanted to get all the arrivals over with in one chapter, but I realized it was getting a bit long and, rather than cutting things out, I just sort of fast-forwarded it a bit. Don't worry; I'll try to give all the contestants the characterization they deserve. Now, on to the next chapter…

Chapter 2: Dangerous Game

Maureen Epps trudged along after the others, trying to decide what to do. One minute, she had been in the hospital, recovering from her exploits on the Antonia Graza, and the next minute she had felt herself falling through what had felt like a cold, dark void. The next thing she remembered she had been laying in some brush, and when she got up…

The first thing that had registered in her mind was the large group of people around her. She was certainly not in the hospital anymore. Then she had seen them. Murphy and Dodge. Her shipmates, her friends, her family. And next to them, standing hands behind her back in proper British fashion was Katie Harwood, the little girl that had helped Epps escape from the Antonia Graza. But they were all dead. Which meant Epps must be…

That's when she had seen him. The very embodiment of evil. The man – no, monster – whose image had been burned into her mind forever: Jack Ferriman. Standing next to him was his little whore, Francesca what's-her-name. And that's when Epps had known she was in Hell. That bastard had come back for her and killed her somehow, marked her and brought her down to Hell with all the rest of his victims.

Panic had seized her, and she had lunged for him, but out of nowhere she had been held back. When her vision had returned to normal and her sense had returned, she had realized it was a small, creepy-looking woman. She had said something about a game, and to follow her. Left with the choice to follow or be left behind, Epps had fallen into step behind the others. 

She could see now, over the heads of the procession, a familiar blonde head weaving through them to find her. Dodge broke from the throng and caught sight of her, rushing to her and scooping her up in his arms for a fierce hug. Epps clutched him back, suddenly having to bite her lip to keep from tears. She had been strong through all of this; there was no reason why she should break up now.

She released Dodge and embraced Murphy, who had come up behind the younger man, and smiled at Katie, who was standing off to the side, pale and silent.

"What's going on here?" Epps asked, "Are we in…"

"Hell? Not as far as I know," Dodge replied.

"What about the others?" Epps asked tremulously, "Santos, Munder, Greer…?"

Dodge shook his head. "We haven't seen them."

Murphy fell into step beside them, the three of them now taking up the rear of the procession.

"I think," he said, "that that girl there-" He pointed ahead to where the creepy woman from before seemed to float above the weeds and burrs, not needing to trudge through them like the others did, "She's in charge here. She said something about some sort of game. I think we should wait and hear her out."

Epps had a lot of strong points. Patience was not one of them, nor was subtlety.

"I say we go up there right now and shake the information out of her," she growled.

"No," Katie said, speaking for the first time, "No, wait. I don't think that's a good idea. You saw how she held you back earlier. She seems to have some sort of unnatural powers, and it most likely wouldn't do to have her angry at us."

Nodding in grudging agreement with the eerily wise little girl, Epps ground her teeth and hoped they would all be provided with an explanation pretty damn soon.

Sara Wolfe was confused. The last thing she remembered before being here on this decidedly creepy island was sitting on the window ledge of the Vanacutt Institution, laughing with Eddie in the growing dawn light and clutching her check for half a million dollars. Now she was here, following these people she had known only briefly in the House on Haunted Hill and she had assumed dead: Evelyn and Steven Price, Watson Pritchett and Melissa Marr.

"So what's the last thing you guys remember?" Sara asked, whispering to avoid calling attention to their little group. She didn't like the look of some of these other strangers, especially that insane-looking old guy in the suit a little ways ahead. He had a mad look to him that reminded her far too much of Dr. Vanacutt himself.

Evelyn turned to look at Sara, giving her a measuring glance, as if even though Sara had survived where most of them hadn't she still wasn't worthy of the dark-haired woman's approval.

"The last thing I remember was running from that shadow creature," Evelyn whispered finally, her voice sounding strained, "Right before it…you know, got me."

Steven snorted.

"Unwilling to accept the truth as ever, my dear." He spat the endearment as always like it was a foul oath, "You remember perfectly well what happened after that. We were trapped in that hellhole, the victims of our own bloodline and a vengeful old house."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed, but she stayed silent.

Watson spoke up. "So, does anyone know what's going on here? This place is starting to give me the creeps."

The little man looked around as he walked, seemingly afraid of some unknown assailant jumping out of the trees at him any time now. Understandable, Sara thought, after the events of the last twenty-four hours. That was enough to make anyone jump at shadows.

"Starting?" Melissa laughed, "I've gone far beyond 'starting' to get creeped out. But hell, if what that weird lady up there says is true," she pointed to the front of the line, where Hekasha presumably still strode gracefully through the jungle, "then we're all alive again. And I'd much prefer being alive and free on this island than dead and enslaved in that godforsaken institution any day."

"Hear, hear," Evelyn whispered.

Sara grimaced. She wished Eddie were here. She wondered why he had been left behind, along with Dr. Blackburn. And she wondered why the other people present were chosen to be there, and where they came from.

Cyrus Kriticos walked fairly easily through the jungle underbrush, swiping aside stray ferns and brambles from underfoot with his cane. He wasn't walking with anyone, preferring to be on his own for the time being. He knew that he couldn't simply walk up to his nephew or any of his little friends, including his old ally Kalina. He had revealed far too much about himself to them already. Cyrus found that remaining an enigma was the best way to keep control of one's allies, and as he looked around he saw all kinds of fresh blood to sink his talons into, to forge into his later minions until he could get off this island. 

He knew very well that he should be dead, but his senses told him he was very much alive. There was something going on here that had immense consequences, and he was aching to get his hands on that black-clad woman and get her to spill the information to him. But not yet. He'd hear what she had to say, and then he'd go to work on the strangers around him, fooling them into trusting him just as he had fooled Kalina and that twitchy little psychic, Dennis. 

As he was thinking about this, a smirk playing on his lips, Cyrus heard voices behind him, drawing closer. Listening closely but not turning around, he recognized the husky female voice of that Italian broad and her male companion.

"Lei me ha abbandonato appena! Che lei pensavano, il Cricco? Tutto ho fatto per lei. Mi sono sbarazzato di quel negro stupido per lei! Non ho preso niente nel ritorno! Uomini!"

"Francesca, I can't understand a goddamn word you're saying. Shut up for a minute and let me think, okay?"

The woman harrumphed indignantly and although they were still behind him Cyrus could imagine her crossing her arms over her voluptuous chest and sulking. Cyrus narrowed his eyes. Perhaps now was the time to start making his alliances…

He turned and faced the couple behind him, who were trudging through the underbrush carefully. The woman's long skirt was ripped and dirty, and she was having a hard time stepping over some of the larger brambles. The man didn't seem to particularly care, looking lost in thought.

He looked up only when he was about to run into Cyrus. He looked Cyrus up and down with one eyebrow raised, then faced him straight on. The two men were of about equal height, and a small staring contest prevailed until the younger man sneered.

'You have a problem or something, old man?"

Cyrus smiled and laughed, an eerie sound.

"No, no problem. I heard you distressing over our current predicament and thought that since I've been here a bit longer than you I'd have some information about this little game that you'd find useful."

Cyrus trailed off, dangling the bait, waiting for the younger man to snap it up.

It took about twenty seconds.

The younger man stuck out his hand.

"Jack Ferriman," he said, "and this is Francesca."

Cyrus nodded to Francesca and gripped Jack's hand firmly, always the businessman.

"Cyrus Kriticos. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Maggie shivered, even though the tropical night air was balmy. It wasn't the environment. It was this whole goddamned situation, she thought grimly. Why, oh WHY, had she decided to take this job for the Kriticoses? She was a highly qualified nanny, and she decided on this job for a family who could barely afford her wages! 

She knew the real reason she had taken this job was that Arthur and his family had been down on their luck. They had needed somebody to not only look after Bobby, who was the sweetest little kid and cute as a button, but to help get their family back together after their tragedy. It was this desperation and the goodness in her heart that had led her to take this job. 

'Screw goodness,' she thought bitterly, "I did NOT sign on for all this ghost shit. First that scary old house, and that scary old man, and his traitorous little bitch, and now I'm on this freakin' island, with more crazy white people, and some insane lady in a cloak, and there's snakes, God I hate snakes, and spiders, and ooooohh…"

She shivered again and looked around to see Arthur looking at her, one eyebrow raised. 

Maggie cringed.

"Sorry, did I say all that out loud?"

"Yeah," Arthur said, in his usual bemused fashion. Arthur was a wreck, obviously worried sick about his kids. Truth was, Maggie was worried sick about the kids too, but you see last time she checked the kids were safe, so right now she was more worried sick about her own ass. 

That funny little psychic dude was on Arthur's other side, peering over at Maggie and looking like he might laugh.

"Don't you dare, ghost boy," Maggie threatened, thrusting one hip out and assuming her ghetto-girl look, "One little titter outta you and you're snake meat, got that?"

The tall, gangly man looked at her for about a second before bursting out in laughter. This wasn't no little titter. No, this laughter echoed off the trees and bounced off the small hill behind them in the center of the island. It was high-pitched, hysterical laughter. As soon as it broke out, everyone turned to look at their little group.

Maggie cringed at their stares and looked around. She didn't like the look of some of these people, and she had no idea where they had come from. And now they were all staring at her. She recognized the freaky old man, Cyrus, who had been joined by some other little man and a woman in a red dress. She also recognized Kalina whats-her-face, off by herself, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Still cringing, Maggie turned back to look at the psychic dude, who was wiping hysterical tears from his eyes.

"Shush," she hissed at him, "Why'd you have to go and do that, drawing attention to us and all?"

"Gee," he said bitterly, his laughter dying away and his eyes filled with pain, "I guess you don't understand the humor in this. You see, just about an hour ago I WAS 'snake-meat', as you put it, and I was perfectly content to be that way. My life was shit and it was finally over, and now because of some sick bitch's twisted game, I'm back and very much alive. I have a pounding headache and ya know what, I don't like snakes either. Snakes scare the hell outta me! And look at poor Arthur! He's worried sick about his kids, I would too were I in his situation!

"Jesus, when I left you guys everything was okay, and I thought I could rest but nope, guess not, I'm back and my head feels like a jackhammer just attacked it. And you're telling me I'm about to be snake meat. I'm sorry, that's kinda funny to me."

To his credit, Maggie thought grimly, at least the guy didn't end up screaming like he had back in the house with his depravity speech. In fact, he had kept his voice to a low hiss. Maybe that meant he was just as intimidated by all these people as Maggie was. That was good, right?

When she didn't respond, Dennis straightened and yelped, jumping back about five feet.

The cause of his alarm was apparent. That creepy-looking woman in black was standing about an inch from where Rafkin's nose had been. Nobody had heard her creep up on them; Maggie put a hand over her heart to steady it. The woman was staring at Rafkin with compassion, although Maggie suspected she might be mocking him.

"Poor Dennis," the woman said in a high, eerie voice, "I know this hurts you, but you'll soon see that this will all be for the better. The beach is only a few more minutes away. When we get there I'll explain everything, and you'll know what a great opportunity I'm giving you."

She then turned and faced the rest of the crowd, who were still silently watching.

"All of you have a wonderful opportunity. Now, if you'll just continue to follow me…"

She trailed off and floated gracefully away through the underbrush, gliding as silently as a ghost.

Five minutes later, the group emerged from the jungle onto the beach. The moon had descended halfway toward the horizon, slanting shadows over the group as they picked their way over the soft white sand toward a group of logs that had been arranged in a circle. 

Hekasha climbed over one of the logs and motioned toward the group.

"Sit," she said simply, and they complied, settling themselves on the logs. There was just enough space so that they could all sit, crushed together, no spaces between them.

Hekasha raised her hand for silence, even though none of her guests spoke a word. She gazed about regally at them, ever so proud of herself for completing the preliminary stages of her game: getting them all here, to the Council area.

The water lapped in the background and the tropical trade winds played with stray bits of hair and clothing as the odd assembly looked silently at Hekasha, waiting for her to speak.

After a few moments, she began.

"Welcome everyone," she said, her high, feminine voice soft but carrying, "to the single biggest event of your unnatural lives. If you'll stay silent until I've finished my explanation, I'll take questions afterward. Now," she paused for a moment, catching the eyes of each of her guests as she spun around in a circle, "I suppose you're wondering where you are.

"This is called the Dark Isle. It sits in an un-traveled area of doldrums in the Pacific Ocean. Human civilization has yet to find this island. There are no planes that will fly overhead and no boats to rescue you for hundreds of miles. There is no escape from this island other than those which I shall explain to you, is that clear?"

Silence met her question, so she went on, "I know you're also wondering why you are here. You have each been chosen carefully from the world of paranormal encounters for this little project, each of you handpicked based on your strength, skill, endurance, belief level, and of course entertainment value. In other words, we chose you because you believe fully in the paranormal, and because people will get a kick out of watching you. Clear?"

Again silence as the gathering absorbed this piece of information.

"And now, I'll explain the reason you're here.

"This island has been chosen as the site for a spectacular game, and you have been chosen as the contestants. The name of the game is this: survival. The Dark Isle has the necessary supplies for living such as fresh water, food, and supplies for a shelter. The island is known for its fierce storms, so I'd highly recommend you build a shelter. The group we see here has been previously split into two equal teams, or tribes: the red tribe and the black tribe. Once I assign you your tribe, it will be up to you to agree on a name and a flag. 

"Your tribe will be like your family on the island: you will live together, eat together, sleep together. The island is a dangerous place full of poisonous wildlife and plants, so you might also choose to protect each other. You will also be competing against the other tribe on a regular basis, so I suggest you learn to work together.

"Every three days there will be what is called a challenge: a game where the two tribes compete against each other for the privilege of immunity. Immunity is a survival trait of the game. If your tribe wins immunity, you are safe for another three days. None of your tribemates will be eliminated from the game. Is this all clear?"

"Hold on a sec," piped up a voice from behind Hekasha. The woman swirled around to face Epps.

"Yes, my dear?"

"What do you mean, 'eliminated'?"

"I was getting to that," Hekasha said with a smile, and continued, "The tribe who does NOT win immunity faces a problem: elimination. In this case, the tribe will be forced to eliminate one member from their tribe by way of a vote. The losing team will meet me here on the night of the challenge and each tribe member will vote for one member of their own tribe. 

"Now this is where the game gets interesting. In the conventional form of the game, the tribe member with the most votes simply leaves the island without delay, eliminated from the game forever. But this is not the conventional form of this game. 

"This is the main reason why you have been chosen for this version. You've all been in dangerous situations before, I daresay. You have all had some experience running from your own deaths, and the sixteen of you have been chosen based on your performance in those situations. Some were terrible at the chase…" Hekasha glanced at Melissa and Kalina, "And some were very adept…" she smiled at Epps, Arthur, Maggie and Sara, "And some were truly amusing or entertaining," she winked at Dennis, Dodge, the Prices, Watson and Murphy, "or exceptionally interesting pursuers," she nodded to Jack, Francesca and Cyrus," and some just couldn't be left out." She smiled at Katie.

"In this form of the Survivor game, the tribe member with the most votes will be marked for execution. This means that from the minute the votes are read, the tribe member is a marked man or woman. From that moment on, anybody on the island, from either tribe, will be given express permission to kill the marked contestant. It will be up to the marked contestant to fend for themselves on the island, surviving as long as they can. You may choose the protection of friends or allies, or you may choose to defend yourself on your own. Just remember that there is a price on your head. The first contestant to successfully kill you will receive one thousand dollars and a luxury reward, so you must choose your friends carefully. The name of this game is to make alliances; strategy is a huge part of this game and, in this case, your lifespan. Now, I believe that's it. Are there any questions?"

Silence reigned for about five seconds before everyone started shouting at once.

Holding her hand up again, Hekasha waited for the din to die down before addressing the protestors one at a time.

She nodded to Dennis, who was fuming.

"Yes?"

Dennis was on his feet, obviously livid.

"And what if you don't want to be here at all? What if you'd rather be dead than play this stupid game?"

Hekasha raised her eyebrows and looked around at the crowd.

"Is there anyone else who feels this way?" she wanted to know.

Looking around at the people in the circle, she knew what the answer would be. All the people here either wanted to be alive again or wanted to stay alive. Playing the game may be a gamble, but it was certainly better than dying or worse, going back to the Vanacutt Institute or Ferriman's ghost ship.

"No? Well than I'm afraid, Dennis, that you're on your own. Since, as I said earlier, there is no alternate way for you to leave the island, I suppose you're stuck anyway. Oh, and I've forgotten to tell you about the grand prize."

"Grand prize?" Melissa interjected, her eyes wide as she leaned forward eagerly.

Seeing that she had everyone's attention, Hekasha smiled brightly.

"I can't believe I forgot! How terribly foolish of me. The final survivor will be granted one wish. One wish with no limitations, to be granted immediately."

Once again, silence prevailed as the contestants absorbed and considered this tidbit.

Hekasha swung back to face Dennis, who looked stunned.

"Still think this is a waste of your time, Dennis?"

Dennis blinked a few times and sat down hard on his log, shaking his head.

Grinning, Hekasha spun in a little circle, obviously elated that the problem was solved.

"Any other questions before I split you up into your tribes?"

There were some head shakes; Cyrus looked positively anxious for the game to begin, and some other contestants were whispering feverishly to each other or exchanging meaningful glances. Some just sat there, looking shell-shocked.

"Well then, I suppose I'll go about splitting you up. I'm afraid you don't get to choose your teams, and I'm afraid there will be no ifs, ands or buts about it. If you are separated from your friends, that's just too bad and you'll have to work to make new alliances. If you are put on a team with your enemies, I suggest you do the best you can to avoid killing them until they are voted out. If you can't restrain yourself and an unfortunate 'accident' should occur, you will be disqualified and marked for execution. You cannot collect a reward on a body if they are not marked. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

A few hate-filled glances were passed around the circle, but there were no objections.

"Right," Hekasha chirped, "It's getting toward dawn now, and I still have to get you divided. If everybody will please stand and move away from the circle…"

As one, the group stood and moved a ways down the beach. Suddenly, out of nowhere, two flags appeared. One was blood red, the other was black. Hekasha took the two flags and planted them firmly in the sand a few meters away from each other, then turned to face the group.

"Alright," she said, practically glowing with excitement. She couldn't believe things had gone this smoothly!

She waved her hand and a piece of paper appeared, from which he read, pointing to people as she read off their names.

"Dodge, red tribe. Epps, black tribe. Jack, red. Katie, black. Maggie, red. Arthur, black. Melissa, red. Cyrus, black. Murphy, red. Evelyn, black. Kalina, red. Watson, black. Steven, red. Dennis, black. Sara, red. Francesca, black."

There was some grumbling and some hugs as friends were separated and enemies placed together, but the new tribes moved fairly quickly toward their respective flags.

Once again, Hekasha flipped her hand, and two pieces of paper appeared. She handed one to Dodge and one to Arthur.

"These are maps of the island. This location is marked, as is the location of your tribe's camp. Once you reach camp, you will find supplies waiting for you. Now I suggest you get a move on. I'll see you in three days for the first challenge. Until then…"

With a swish of her cloak, Hekasha vanished as smoothly as she had appeared on the island.

And so it was, as dawn peeked over the far-off blue horizon, that the two tribes moved away in separate directions to begin to the game of Dark Castle Survivor.


	3. Making Camp

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the Dark Castle characters or references in this story, nor do I own any rights to the Survivor game show. Do I LOOK like Mark Burnett to you? No! Didn't think so!

A/N: Whew, nice to get some friendly reviews. Thanks Magdalena, Queen of Ice, AliceProspero, and all of my other reviewers, you have no idea how much those reviews mean to me…you're the reason I keep going on this chapter as I redo it time after time after time. I think I've finally got it right. This is really the last introduction chapter. After this, it's going to be like a real episode of Survivor, with it skipping around constantly and not going in depth a whole lot, only showing what needs to be shown.

On a separate note, I myself watched Survivor All-Stars for the sheer hell of it and I am very glad Amber won. She deserved it. And now, on to the next installment of Dark Castle Survivor!

Chapter 3: Making Camp

Kalina Oretzia slogged along in the soft sand, taking up the rear of the procession that was now the red tribe. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting brilliant shades of pink and gold over the sky and bringing with it the warmth of the day to come. Still, Kalina gave an involuntary shiver.

As she gazed at the group of people in front of her and thought about the prospect of living with them all for the next god-knows-how long, she was definitely daunted. Daunted, but not discouraged. Maggie, the Kriticos' nanny, had been put on her team, and kept darting sharp looks in Kalina's direction, obviously remembering Kalina's double-crossing back in the glass house. But Kalina smirked back at her, knowing well that Maggie was just as scared and alone as she was.

Kalina knew she should be thinking about alliances. Cyrus was on the other team, thank heavens, but there was that blonde man and his older friend, who seemed to know each other very well. They would be hard to separate and would stick together – at least for the first little while. And then there was the middle-aged man in the suit, who appeared to want to be left alone. One of the women, a blonde in a red shirt, kept looking at him strangely. Then there was that brown-haired man, the good-looking one, up in the front of the line with the map. He looked like he preferred to work on his own; Kalina presumed all his alliances ended the way hers and Cyrus' had. Although he had seemed rather attached to that woman in the red dress, who was now on the other tribe.

What Kalina really needed was someone to depend on, someone who would take care of her. She liked the look of the two blonde women on the team. They seemed to know each other, and were whispering to each other. Putting on a burst of speed, Kalina came up behind them and smiled when they turned to look at her.

"Hey," she said, a hesitant half-smile in place. The perfect cute, shy look.

The shorter of the two, who wore a short skirt and a fur-trimmed cardigan, looked Kalina up and down, then smiled back.

"Hey," she responded, "I'm Melissa Marr. And you are...?"

"Kalina Oretzia."

Kalina stuck out her hand and shook with Melissa, then turned to her companion.

"Sara Wolfe," the woman said with a semi-sincere smile. She had long blonde hair and was wearing a torn, bloodied red shirt and suit pants.

Kalina shook hands with Sara and dropped into step between the two women.

"So," Kalina chirped, "You two look like you've been through the mill. What's your story? Bet it doesn't beat mine."

The two blondes looked at each other and each breathed a sigh. They turned back to Kalina and Sara grinned.

'You're on," she said grimly.

Evelyn Price yawned widely as the first rays of sun warmed the sand at her feet. Her pale, flowing dress, covered in blood, dragged in the sand and slowed her progress as the black tribe made their way toward their soon-to-be camp.

Evelyn hated camping. She wasn't what you'd call an outdoorsy type of girl. She preferred bubble baths and pedicures to hiking and campfires. And now that old witch Hekasha expected her to spend an undetermined amount of time camping on a deserted island with a bunch of strangers with her murderous husband only a few miles away?

Not a chance.

The only other person she knew on this tribe was that little worm Watson Pritchett, the owner of the old house which had just trapped her. She had nothing to say to him, which was fine because Watson wasn't paying any attention to her. It galled her a bit that anyone could just ignore her. She was, after all, Evelyn Price! But she couldn't imagine herself warming up to Watson anytime soon, so she let it slide.

The Italian broad muttered to herself a few feet away, trying to free her heeled shoe from a wet patch of sand. Now this was a kindred spirit, someone who was definitely not suited to the outdoor life.

Evelyn crossed to her, bent, and yanked on the distraught woman's ankle. The heel popped out of the sand with a wet squelch, making both women wrinkle their noses.

"Thank you," the Italian woman said with a heavy accent, "I am, ah, overdressed for zee occasion, no?"

Evelyn smiled grimly.

"That makes two of us," she replied, gesturing to her own full-length gown.

There was a pause, and then Evelyn extended her delicate, perfectly manicured hand in greeting.

"Hi. I'm Evelyn. Evelyn Price."

"Francesca."

They continued on, following the holders of the map, that butch-looking woman and the creepy-looking little girl in the blue dress.

"So Francesca – can I call you Fran? – what brings you here to this fantasy island?" Evelyn asked in a mocking tone.

Francesca smirked. "It is a long, strange story."

The corners of Evelyn's mouth turned up at that one. "Hah! No story's longer or stranger than mine."

"Oh, I teenk it is…"

Jack Ferriman looked up from the map he was reading, glancing at the trees to both sides of a small inlet. The sand sloped up in a gradual incline to join with the dark forested hills at the island's center. According to the map, this was their new home.

Jack let a smirk play on his lips as he surveyed the area and waited for his team members to catch up. He wasn't quite sure when he had started thinking of the red team as 'his team', but he had.

Jack wasn't worried about the game. As far as he was concerned, it was only a matter of time before he was back to stealing souls. He didn't know who this Hekasha chick was, but she didn't sound like she had a hell of a lot of power in the paranormal hierarchy. Jack was positive that, given a few days, Management would show up and bail him out. And if somehow Hekasha could deal with the paperwork and shit involved in keeping him here, Jack had the game in the bag. Not because he was an expert manipulator, which he was, but because he had a major advantage over all the other contestants: he couldn't die.

By this time, Jack heard footsteps trudging up behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the young black woman rounding the corner into view around some large rocks.

Jack smiled in greeting, figuring that he may as well put the old charm on, just in case he was here longer than expected.

The young woman glared at him for a moment, but didn't return the smile. Understandable; Jack had seen how attached she had been to that guy she had been hanging around earlier, and now they had been separated. Too bad, so sad.

Next around the bend was a group of chattering women. He caught the tail end of their conversation, something about calling off a bet by default, then something about scary old houses and crazy old men.

They all looked up at him then and smiled shyly, like they didn't know what to expect from him. Nonetheless, they made their way over to him.

"Hey," yelled a blonde in a ripped shirt, "Is this the place?"

"I think so," Jack said, not letting any of his true nature leak through in his words.

Another blonde in a skirt and furry sweater and a ditzy-looking brunette wearing a leather vest came up behind the first woman.

The brunette was the first to come forward.

"Hi," she introduced herself, "I'm Kalina."

Jack smiled his most charming smile at her, and he could almost see her melting. This would be far too easy. Next, Jack was introduced to Melissa and Sara.

After shaking their hands, he looked over their shoulders and saw the newest arrival, Steven Price. Jack had talked briefly with Steven on the way to camp before the other man had broken off, obviously to do some deep thinking. Jack had to admire Price. Not only did the man dress like an eighties-style pimp, he completed the look with the stupidest-looking little moustache Jack had ever seen! Price wasn't going to be much of a problem. How could he be when nobody could even take the guy seriously?

Price surveyed the beach and selected a log over by the forest to sit and 'think' some more. Jack caught the looks of distaste on the faces of the three women around him and smirked. Some bad blood there. Good. It would be easy to convince them to vote Price out when the time came. Then again, he noticed that Kalina was staring at him. It shouldn't be hard for him to convince HER to do anything.

The final arrivals came around the rocks, spotted Jack, and snarled. Who else but Jack's two latest kills, Murphy and Dodge? It was clear from their expressions that they wanted nothing to do with Jack or the rest of the tribe.

"Well," Jack said with a smile, "Seems like it's up to us to set up camp. I spotted some crates of supplies up near the forest. Let's see what's in them."

Katie Harwood dropped the last load of firewood beside the space that had been cleared for a fire pit. Maureen Epps sat in the sand beside Katie, using a small axe to chop bits of bamboo into workable pieces.

Behind Katie were three men who had introduced themselves as Dennis Rafkin, Arthur Kriticos and Watson Pritchett. Katie and Epps had spoken to the three men on the way to camp, and the five of them had traded stories. Katie had thought she had a strange life – and afterlife – until she had met these people. Glass houses and insane old men, twelve deranged ghosts, psychics, mental institutions, mad doctors and shadow creatures! How frightening!

Dennis and Watson stepped forward to grab some bamboo logs from Epps, dragging them over toward where Arthur was beginning the foundations of their shelter.

The fivesome had opened the three supply crates left for them and had discovered three large sacks of rice, one large spear and a pair of diving fins, two large cleavers and an axe, a metal skillet, an iron cauldron, eight water canteens, a small knife, a small wilderness survival guide, a large pack of matches, a map to a nearby water source, and about fifty meters of rough twine.

They had agreed that Epps would certainly know the most about roughing it, and after a quick consultation of the wilderness survival book they had settled on a simple one-floor bamboo shelter with a thatched palm roof. None of their other teammates had wanted to help.

By this time, the sun had filly risen and the air was warm and fragrant. The shelter seemed to be coming along nicely, but that was still to be seen. The decision had been made that, in order to maintain a positive reputation in the game, they would have to make the shelter big enough to accommodate all eight members of the tribe, including that dreadful old hag Francesca and her new friend, Evelyn, and the scary old man known as Cyrus.

Katie knew she could count on Maureen for an alliance, and she was pretty sure these other three were good guys as well. For now, she figured she had better stay close to Maureen. She had a feeling Francesca may be hatching a plot to get one of them voted out.

Watson Pritchett couldn't believe what a shitty couple of days he was having. First he got trapped in the old Vanacutt place, despite his every effort to avoid it. Then he spent a harrowing night running from his certain doom, then as if that wasn't enough he actually DID die! Then before he knew it he was stuck on this stupid island with all these people he didn't know, to begin another harrowing fight for his life. Talk about stress!

And there was Evelyn Price, sitting like the friggin' Queen of Sheeba up by the trees. She had always had an attracting allure, even if she had the personality of an electric eel. And sitting next to her, fanning herself with a delicate hand, was that Italian broad with the huge knockers.

With effort, Watson stopped his drooling and got back to the task at hand. He had been assigned to look for palm fronds that would be suitable for their shelter, and since he had limited experience with palm fronds he took this to mean that any palm frond would do. So he had combed the beach and the surrounding jungle, always keeping within sight of camp .There was a bad feeling he got from the deeper jungle, something about this whole island. It reminded him of the feeling he had gotten in the Vanacutt place as a kid, before he knew it was haunted.

An involuntary shiver rolled down his spine in the baking afternoon sun as he deposited the palm fronds by the shelter, which was starting to come together thanks to Arthur and Dennis.

Thinking about his strategy, he figured he could count on these four people - Epps, Katie, Arthur and Dennis - to protect him, and he would watch their backs. They all seemed like decent people, and Watson prided himself on being an excellent judge of character.

Content for the moment to concentrate on making shelter, Watson wordlessly set out to get more fronds.

Melissa Marr wiped the sweat from her brow and continued hacking away at the bamboo poles. The mid afternoon sun beat down on her back, and though she had stripped down to her camisole she was still wilting in the heat.

Nearby, Sara and Kalina worked at roping together the bamboo she had cut for a shelter at Jack's orders. Jack himself was off in the woods, collecting firewood and building materials. Maggie had also got involved after an hour or so, and was now scraping out an area for their fire pit.

Melissa wasn't what you'd call an outdoors type of gal, but she had been camping before and knew the basics. She hoped that would make her of some use to the tribe, because that might determine how long she stayed alive on this island.

Melissa stopped for a minute to stretch her back and take a short swig from the water canteen she had selected from their crate earlier. Glancing down the beach she caught sight of Murphy and Dodge, who were still refusing to do dick shit while Jack was around. The pair sat on a log, their heads bent together in speech.

And then there was the elusive eighth member of the red tribe, Steven Price, who kept mostly to himself, lurking in the shadows of the jungle. Melissa hadn't seen him for a couple of hours, and hoped it would stay that way. She hadn't liked that worthless prick the first time she had dealt with him, and didn't like him any better now that Sara had filled her in on what else had happened in the Vanacutt house.

Melissa wasn't quite sure, you never could be, but she was pretty certain that the four of them – Jack, Kalina, Sara and herself – had an alliance so far. It was early in the game, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them. And for that she was greatful.

Just then, Jack came out onto the beach hauling a load of dried brush and wood in his arms. The man had taken his shirt off, which nobody of Jack's physique should be allowed to do when a girl is holding a machete. Melissa tried not to drop the thing on her foot as Jack laboured down the short hill to the fire pit and dropped the load at Maggie's feet. Even from here, Melissa could see Maggie's eyes widen before she tried to hide her expression.

Ducking her own head and pretending to find the log of bamboo very interesting, Melissa bit back the grin she could feel coming on. This was going to be a very interesting camping trip, indeed.


	4. Challenges

Disclaimer: I really don't own any of the stuff from Survivor or Dark Castle films! Really! Why won't you believe meeee? Pauses for dramatic effect Oh, fine, so I'm no actress. I'm just the same poor Canadian girl I was in the beginning of this fic. I'll just get on with it then, shall I?

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. When I started this fic, it was with a vow that I would never just stop writing without notice as many other authors do. But alas I have had cause to break that promise to myself and to you, dear readers. So I apologize and will now continue on with the next exciting edition of Dark Castle Survivor! A super long one at that, to make up for the wait.

Chapter 4: Challenges

The first night on the Dark Isle was an awkward one for the red tribe. Jack and the women finished building a suitable shelter: it wasn't much, but it would hold out the rain and wind. They hoped. The fire was started with the small supply of matches they had been provided with, and the five of them huddled around it while the shadows of the island grew longer.

'They almost seem to take on their own life,' Sara Wolfe thought with a shiver as she shimmied closer to the fire on her driftwood seat. The thought brought back memories of the past night, when she had barely escaped from the real shadow creature in the old insane asylum. Once again, she wished Eddie was there. She had really grown close to him in their perilous struggle for their lives, and it would be nice to have him there for moral support.

Still, she had to admit that what she had was better than nothing. Melissa was there, and Jack, Kalina and even Maggie were friendly enough. She felt fairly certain that there was an alliance between the five of them, but she could never be sure.

Across the fire, Kalina did her very best to cuddle closer to Jack while Jack, very much aware of her advances, went along with it dutifully. Kalina struck Sara as the type of person that she wouldn't get along with on a regular basis; one of those women who simpered and bowed to those she thought might help her get ahead.

And then there was the other pair, who had managed to start their own fire some way down the beach. Dodge and Murphy had kept to themselves the whole day, making it very clear that anyone who associated with Jack was their enemy by default. Sara wasn't quite sure what to think about those two, but if push came to shove she could probably make it into their good graces somehow…

Finally, there was Steven Price to consider. The man was a leech, a parasite, and a slimy one at that. Sara had no respect for the man and intended to get him off this island in one way or another as soon as possible. But that would have to wait until after their first challenge the next day…

At the black tribe's camp, night had fully set in. Dennis, Arthur, Epps, Katie and Watson all sat around their campfire deep in thought.

Well, Dennis was deep in thought anyway. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, with one problem stacked on top of another, and it was a wonder he could think anything at all.

Just when he had thought the troubles of his life were over, here he was stuck with a bunch of strangers on a deserted island. The only thing that kept him from stabbing himself with the group's machete was a miracle he had discovered while putting the finishing touches on their shelter a few hours earlier. He had been fastening some palm fronds onto the roof when Epps had brushed by him for some reason. Too slow to get away, Dennis had braced himself for the pain that would accompany her touch…

But nothing had happened. She had brushed by him, their shoulders bumping, and there was no pain, no visions. Nothing. And now that he was aware of it he realized that Katie, who was a ghost, had been around him all day. Even the times when she had been really close, her presence hadn't bothered him at all! And that had got him thinking: Katie didn't even look like a ghost! She looked perfectly solid and opaque, as did Francesca.

Even now, sitting staring at the fire hours later, Dennis marveled in his newfound freedom. He supposed that when that Hekasha woman had brought them to the island she had relieved them of any serious advantages/disadvantages that could affect the game. Dennis didn't have any reason to like Hekasha, but he was grateful for that at least. And that also meant that she hadn't been bluffing about the grand prize: that wish…

Of course, Dennis would wish for life without his curse. And being here on this island uninhibited by it was almost torture: he knew what it was like to live normally. If he got killed again on this island, he would never forgive himself. Now more than ever he had to win.

Taking a stick to poke at the fire, Dennis looked around the fire at the four people he was allied with. Would he be willing to do anything, even kill them, for the chance to live free of the curse which had bound him his entire life?

The question lingered in his mind, impossible to answer…or was it?

The next day dawned sunny and clear, with tiny clouds drifting in the pale morning sky.

Sean Murphy groaned and held his aching back as he tried to sit up; he wasn't as young as he used to be. He and Dodge had opted not to sleep in the little bamboo shelter with the rest of their tribe last night, preferring to face the elements than to sleep within twenty feet of that murdering bastard Ferriman and the little harem he had collected. The pair had taken shelter at the edge of the woods, on a bed of ferns.

It had taken a while for them to get to sleep, even though none of the participants had slept the night before. The haunting noises and flitting shadows the island sported at night hadn't helped, but apparently Murphy had managed to fall asleep. He finally succeeded in pushing himself upright, fighting the twinges of protest in his spine.

On his left, Murphy felt an echoing groan as Dodge, his newest and most promising shipmate, also sat up. The blonde man had ferns and twigs in his hair and stuck to his clothing, and possessed the dazed look of someone who had not gotten enough sleep.

Murphy was about to open his mouth to ask when the younger man had fallen asleep, when they both jumped at the sound of a loud bullhorn crackling to life.

"ATTENTION, YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE!" came a magnified voice from the direction of the water. Both Murphy and Dodge swung their heads around sharply to see a small rowboat heading toward their beach. Standing at the prow like some dark masthead was that woman Hekasha, dressed in the same black dress and cape she had worn two nights ago. Against that positively medieval backdrop, Murphy thought the bullhorn she had raised to her lips looked a bit silly.

Now that he looked in the direction of the water, Murphy also noticed that the rest of his tribemates were already awake and had a fire started. Well, most of them were there. Steven Price, as usual, was nowhere to be seen. By the time Hekasha had reached shore and was being helped from the boat by a black-clad oarsman, Price had skulked out of the greenery to join them all in seeing what the hell was going on.

Striding – no, Murphy thought, gliding – up the beach toward the fire, Hekasha smiled her brightest smile, which had the effect of making her look even madder. She beamed around at the tribe as if she was the queen and they her subjects, then announced in a loud ringing voice:

"I see you've settled in nicely. Good, good. That means you're ready for your first group challenge, to be held today at the communal beach at precisely 11:00 a.m. Does one of you have a watch? Excellent. That gives you two hours. By the way, from now on, you will receive notice of challenges via our 'tree mail' system. All messages will be left in the pouch attached to that tree."

Hekasha pointed one long, black-nailed finger in the direction of a palm tree, to which the tribe could see a small leather pouch attached.

"The way to the communal beach is outlined on your map," Hekasha continued after a breath, "Be sure to wear something that you don't mind getting wet in. See you at eleven!"

With that, Hekasha turned and swept back down the beach, got into the rowboat, and slowly disappeared into the early morning fog.

Stunned silence reigned until it was broken by a heavy sigh from Melissa Marr, who looked down at herself despairingly.

"But what I'm wearing is all I have! I can't get any of it wet!"

Arthur Kriticos cleared another big rock, moving as swiftly as possible after Epps, Watson and Dennis, who were leading the way to the communal beach. Beside him, struggling because of her stunted height, was Katie. The rest of the tribe trailed far behind them.

Arthur and the members of his alliance had gone to bed early the night before, not having slept for almost 48 hours. But sleep had been long in the coming, as shadows roamed the beach and loud, haunting noises had drifted to them from the forest.

As Arthur heaved himself over another boulder, he wondered where his kids were right now. Kathy and Bobby had always been resourceful, and after their mother had died they realized they would have to take care of themselves when Arthur was at work. Feeling guilty, Arthur had hired Maggie to help out, but now…

Now, after a night of sheer hell in that ghostly glass house, his kids were suddenly more alone than ever. What were they thinking? Where had they gone? Were they safe? What if one of those ghosts had come back and…

Forcing his thoughts away from horrible mental images, Arthur simply remembered the vow he had taken yesterday with himself. He would return to his kids no matter what, and that meant surviving- and winning – this game. And there was that wish to think about once he had won. He knew exactly what he would wish for: his family back. His wife back. To go back to the way it was before. After finally seeing his wife put to rest two nights ago, he missed her somehow more than ever.

Arthur's thoughts were jarred abruptly back to the present when Katie nudged him in the ribs.

"We're here," she whispered in that spooky childlike voice.

Arthur looked around and realized that they were indeed at the communal beach. Two big bamboo mats, one black and one red, had been laid out on the sand a ways up the beach. Two similarly coloured log platforms drifted a hundred meters or so out in the water. Between the platforms and the beach were half a dozen unlit torches poking out of the waves.

Epps, Dennis and Watson were already heading up the beach for the black mat, and as Arthur watched, the red tribe approached from the opposite side of the beach and went for the red mat.

By the time Arthur and Katie had reached the mat, Evelyn and Francesca had come into sight, bitching and whining as usual. Behind them stalked Cyrus Kriticos, Arthur's mad uncle. Arthur was glad Cyrus had stayed clear of camp, because if Arthur had spent any prolonged period of time around the old man he would have killed him yet again. Even now, he clenched his fists and exchanged a look with Dennis, who also looked murderous.

Before anything could be said, there was a loud CRACK and Hekasha appeared out of nowhere. She had visited the black tribe's camp this morning as well, and made the same announcement. Now she stood before them, the same belittling smile on her face, and addressed them all.

"Well, I see you've all made it. I trust you all slept well last night?"

She gazed around at them all, but when nobody answered she went on, "Well I hope so, because today's challenge requires physical strength and endurance. The challenge begins here. On my word, your tribe will run down the beach and swim for the platform in your tribe's colour. You must then dive under your platform, where you will find four treasure boxes with ropes tied around them, anchoring your platform to the seabed. They each have a combination lock on them, the combinations for which can be found written on the boxes. Unlock each box and untie them from the anchor ropes. Also, you must retrieve the match inside each box. Only one of the four matches is waterproof and will therefore be the only one of any use to you. Once you have successfully unlocked all four boxes, the platform will be moveable. One of you must light the torch on the platform and as you move down the line of torches each one must be lit in order. If one goes out you must relight it. The challenge is won when your platform and every member of your tribe are back here on these mats. Is that all clear?"

There were a few moments of silence before the shouting began.

"That's impossible!" yelled Kalina.

"You cannot possibly expect me to swim around in this!" exclaimed Francesca, motioning to her form-fitting red gown.

"I won't do it!" cried Steven Price.

"ENOUGH!" screamed Hekasha, stunning them all into silence, "I told you all to wear something you wouldn't mind getting wet in, but I see now that that isn't possible." She looked around at the unsuitable attire her charges wore and for a moment the proud look on her face fell. But a moment later her smug expression returned.

"I'm afraid that I've forgotten something," she said, almost apologetically, "I knew you'd be arriving with only the clothes on your back, and I merely forgot to give you the spares…"

At that, Hekasha waved her hand and a rather large pile of clothing appeared on the sand in front of her. Also, she now held one handful of black material and one of red material.

"First off, these are your buffs. They are to be worn for all challenges and tribal councils, and any other time you are required to appear with your tribe."

She tossed the handful of black material in Arthur's direction and the red material in the direction of the other team. Arthur caught Maggie's eye and tried to smile.

"Now, for the rest. Swimwear…"

The pile in front of Hekasha got slightly smaller and Arthur suddenly held a pair of new-looking blue swimming shorts. All the other contestants had noticed the same thing.

"Underwear…"

This next handout was greeted with much blushing but a great deal of relief, and finally…

"And others."

A small pile had now accumulated in front of Arthur, including a few t-shirts, shorts, cool cotton pants and sandals. The same sort of pile, in varying sizes and styles, rested on front of all of his tribemates.

"There! Now that's settled, you have five minutes to change for the competition." Hekasha said, turning away. Arthur wondered if that meant casual dismissal or if she felt she was giving them privacy. Catching the mild grin on her face, Arthur wondered how much privacy anyone truly enjoyed on this godforsaken island…

When everyone was more or less ready, Hekasha reassembled her charges on their mats. They all wore swimwear of varying colour, size and style, some of them with t-shirts or shorts as well. And they all wore their buffs in assorted creative ways as expected.

'Excellent," said Hekasha, "Now we're ready to begin. I will keep up a running commentary for your benefit and that of the viewers throughout the challenge. Now. On your marks, get set…"

The survivor contestants had by now assumed a stance of readiness to bolt down the beach, each with determination on their faces.

"GO!" she cried, and started up her commentary.

"The red tribe gets off to an early lead, the black tribe held up by Fran and Evelyn, who seem to be blatantly refusing to move. Remember, everyone, your entire tribe must participate fully in the challenge!

The red tribe is in the water, and Jack and Dodge are in the lead. It seems the two are racing each other, not the other team, but hey, whatever works.

The black team is finally all in the water, and expert swimmer Epps is making up for the lost time.

Dodge and Jack have already reached the platform and are diving for the boxes while the rest of the red tribe catches up. Sara is now going for the third red box.

Epps has made it to the black platform, closely followed by Katie, Watson and Dennis. Arthur is behind them and Fran, Evelyn and Cyrus are taking up the rear for the black tribe. Epps has gone under and Dennis is getting ready to dive as well.

Jack has just come up with the first match for the red tribe, and Dodge has come up for air after unsuccessfully trying to open his box, and has gone under for another try. Sara has been under a while now, and there goes Jack to see what's taking her so long. Meanwhile, Maggie has gone for the fourth box.

On the black side, Fran and Evelyn have climbed up on the platform to wait with Cyrus. Arthur has tried twice but can't seem to find the breath to unlock his box. Here comes Epps with the first match, and Dennis is up with the second. That puts black in the lead as Katie goes for the third box and Watson for the fourth.

Back to red. Kalina, out of breath, has climbed up on the platform, as has Steven. Murphy is swimming around, looking confused, and Dodge is up with the second match. Sara, who almost drowned herself in the process, is up with the third match. Maggie is still under unlocking the fourth.

Black tribe now, Arthur has climbed up on the platform and is trying to light the torch with Dennis' match. Here comes Katie with the third match, but it looks like Watson couldn't unlock his, He's back under for another try. Looks like the first couple of matches didn't work, and they're trying the third…nope, looks like they have to wait for Watson's.

And on the red tribe, Melissa is on the platform trying the matches. First didn't work, second didn't work, third…AHA! The third one worked, but they still have to wait until Maggie unlocks the fourth box. AND HERE SHE IS! The team is yelling at her to drop the match and help them move the platform.

Back to the black tribe, where Watson has finally come up with the final match. Arthur lights the torch and they're on their way. Remember, all six torches must be lit, in order, from the torch on the platform. If the torch on the platform goes out, they must relight it from one of the burning ones, thus losing valuable time.

The red tribe has all gone back in the water and are helping move the platform, save for Sara, who is lighting the first torch. There it goes, and on to the second.

The black tribe is having a bit more trouble, as Fran and Evelyn still refuse to get off the platform. Katie, the lightest of them, is also on the platform, and has lit the first torch.

The red tribe has already lit their second torch, and is almost to the third. Alright, they've lit the third torch.

Black tribe is lighting their second, they've got to really work to catch up to the red tribe. It looks like Watson is really out of breath after that last box, and he's dragging them down.

Red tribe, Maggie and Murphy are both looking extremely fatigued. But they've got their fourth torch lit. Melissa is climbing up beside Sara now, who is looking quite pale and seems unable to hold herself upright any longer. That added weight might slow them down, but will it be enough for the black tribe to catch up?

On the black side, the third torch has been lit. A burst of speed from Epps and Dennis has got them to the fourth and it's…lit! Arthur and Watson are not looking so good, hopefully they can make it.

The red tribe has lit their fifth torch, only one to go. Fatigue is setting in, though, and Sara appears to have swallowed more salt water than it seemed at first, as she appears to be unconscious. Melissa is trying to revive her and Maggie has climbed up onto the platform to light the final torch.

The fifth black torch is lit and Cyrus, Arthur and Watson are leaning on the platform more than pulling it. Expert swimmer Epps and long-legged Dennis are pulling most of the weight here, but no, Katie and Arthur have switched places. Katie's young legs provide a burst of speed, and the last torch is a few feet away…

But the red tribe has already lit their last torch, and is almost to the beach! Everyone has piled off the platform except for Sara, who still appears to be out of it. They're all very tired, and are dragging the platform up the beach at a snail's pace.

And the black tribe has their last torch lit, and is now struggling through the shallows to the beach. Nobody is left on the platform, and even Fran and Evelyn are helping carry it. The added strength might just win them the challenge, but no, the red tribe has taken heart and is practically running up the beach! Oh no, Kalina's tripped. Remember, all tribe members must be on the mat for a victory to be achieved.

The black tribe is sprinting for it, but the red tribe's former lead is too great. THE RED TRIBE HAS REACHED THE MAT! Come on Kalina! That's it! They're all there! The red tribe had won the first challenge of Dark Castle Survivor!"

At Hekasha's words, the black tribe dropped their platform amid loud cursing and swearing. They had been so close!

Back up at the red tribe's mat, Hekasha was in the midst of handing them the immunity idol, a snarling black gargoyle (like in the Dark Castle logo, of course).

The entire tribe was jumping up and down with excitement, except for Sara, who was being examined by Hekasha. Straightening with a sigh, Hekasha simply whacked the young woman in the midriff, causing her to choke up a lungful of salt water. Sara choked and coughed until most of it was expelled, and upon learning that her tribe had won immunity managed a weak grin. Most of the rest of the red tribe had also collapsed to the sand, panting and utterly exhausted. But they were safe, at least for a few more days.

"You know what that means, black tribe," Hekasha sang, pleased no end that the first challenge had gone off without the slightest hitch, "You are to join me at tribal council tonight. The way to tribal council is also on your map of the island, and you're expected there by the time it's fully dark. I suggest you head back now and begin to discuss who is getting voted out of your tribe tonight. As for the red tribe, you may take your immunity idol and extra clothing and return to your beach."


	5. Tribal Council

Disclaimer: See last four chapters. I've gotten lazy.

A/N: This chapter was originally part of Chapter 4, but then I decided it was way too long. And since it was twice the length of most of my chapters, I decided to cut it in half in the most logical place: the end of the challenge. So have fun reading Chapter 5, and don't be expecting another update for a little while. I have two other fics going and an original fiction, and I haven't written for them for a while, either. Check out my other stories, 'Bit of a Freak' (Thir13en Ghosts section) and 'Ghost Ship II: Second Chances' (Miscellaneous Movies section) for updates coming soon. And now, back to Dark Castle Survivor…

Chapter 5: Tribal Council

Back at the black tribe's camp, Epps threw her spare clothing down in a heap inside the shelter and flung herself down on the sand near the water. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sunk her head between them, disappointment and dread mixing inside her.

They had been so close to winning, so close to beating the other tribe. Maureen pictured once again in her mind the look Ferriman had given her as he took the immunity idol from Hekasha. He had smirked at her and then glanced at Dodge and Murphy, as if to tell her that, once again, there was nothing she could do for them if he decided he wanted them gone. Frustration worked its way out of her in a snarl. How dare that evil son of a bitch threaten not just Epps, but her crew? Again! Why had they been separated? Why? WHY?

Taking deep breaths, Epps fought back the tears. She would win this game no matter what, and when she got her wish it would be for her crew back. Not just Murphy and Dodge but all of them. She had spoken to Dennis earlier after he had theorized about the advantages and disadvantages of her tribemates having been removed, and had realized that he was right. Hekasha could bring people back from the dead. It was possible. Now if Epps could only stick it out to the end…and somehow find the heart to betray her allies: Watson, the poor man, Arthur, who wanted to return to his children, Dennis, who had a second chance at a better life, and Katie, who had never really had a first chance at life. Could Epps condemn them all to death for her own selfishness? And would they hesitate to do the same…?

"I hope we don't have to do that too often," Katie sighed as she stirred the pot of rice over the fire. Arthur sat a few feet away on a piece of driftwood, halfheartedly hacking coconuts in half for bowls. There was a pile of coconut meat beside him on a rock, which Watson was chopping up into fine bits with one of the tribe's large knives. Dennis was wandering around some nearby rocks with the survival booklet, scavenging for small edible shellfish.

Epps had disappeared, claiming to 'need some space'. Katie knew that the woman was disappointed that they had lost the challenge, and that she blamed herself somehow. Even though, Katie thought with a headshake, Epps had been the strongest among them. It was the fault of those lazy old bags Francesca and Evelyn, and that old coot Cyrus, that they had lost.

"So who goes tonight?" Watson asked into the silence after glancing around to see nobody was listening in. Francesca and Evelyn had gone up the beach somewhere, and Cyrus as usual was nowhere to be found.

"Cyrus," Arthur replied immediately at the same time as Katie said "Francesca".

"Hmmm, I was thinking Evelyn," Watson said with the hint of a grin.

"I guess we all have our personal grudges," Arthur rationalized as the coconut he was working on broke in half with a satisfying crack, "so I guess we have to decide who's the worst for the tribe."

Katie thought about that for a few minutes. Who WAS the worst for the tribe? Both of the women had been utterly useless at the challenge today, but they both seemed to have keen minds when they wanted to. Cyrus, on the other hand, was obviously a complete lunatic. And judging from the look in Dennis and Arthur's eyes at the challenge, Katie was willing to bet the man wouldn't live long once he was marked for execution.

"I say Cyrus," she said quietly.

"I have to say I agree," Watson said with a nod, "The guy's a nutcase."

"I knew that." Arthur agreed, "I'm pretty sure Dennis will say the same thing, but I'll ask him when he gets back, and Epps too."

Katie nodded and went back to stirring the rice, trying not to think about what would happen if any of these people were lying to her. She was small and rather weak. Would that be enough to get her voted out and thus marked for death? If her alliance wasn't what they said it was, then what was she to do…?

Evelyn couldn't remember a time when she had been more miserable. She hadn't bothered to change after the challenge, and had drying salt all over her body. There was sand between her toes and she smelled like seaweed. And the swimsuit that she had been provided had only one piece! What a tragedy! And to top it all off, her manicure had started to wear off.

Her only consolation was that at least her hair was still dry. Poor Francesca had gotten splashed with salt water during the challenge, and her silky brown hair had frizzed out to an unattractive degree. But at least Francesca had been given a decently tasteful two-piece swimsuit.

The rest of the clothing the women had been provided with was barely satisfactory, but it would have to do. Evelyn couldn't remember ever having to make do with anything in her life. She had always been given the best things money could buy, and then she had married into money. The idea that she had to put up with something that was not to her liking was uncomfortable and quite frustrating, but what choice did she have? The only way off this stupid island, it seemed, was death!

She and Fran had spent the last hour talking it over, and had decided that that little brat Katie had to go tonight. Fran had assured her that though the child looked harmless, she was resourceful and cunning in an innocent sort of way. Therefore Katie was a threat. Now to convince enough people to make it a majority…

Evelyn, well-versed at scheming, was fairly sure that Cyrus would side with them if they approached him. That meant that they had to win over just one more person to make it four votes against Katie, and that may prove difficult. Those other five had become very close, and probably already had an alliance. But how strong was that alliance, and who would be the easiest to turn?

The answer to that was simple. Epps was a softhearted fool, and would maintain her 'honour' to the last. That little worm Watson Pritchett might be convinced to trade information for 'favours', but Evelyn doubted that he would ever defy his alliance openly when the time came to vote; the man was a coward. Arthur was another softhearted idiot, and seemed rather attached to his little alliance. He seemed to think that by sticking with those losers he would live to return to his kids, not realizing that there could be only one winner and that his precious friends would turn on him in the end. That left only one option: Dennis Rafkin.

Neither Fran nor Evelyn had had much experience with Dennis, but it was fairly easy to see that the young man was afraid of his own shadow. This meant that if Evelyn was correct he would already doubt his alliance, paranoid that they were stringing him on. But according to Cyrus, with whom Evelyn had spoken earlier, the gangly psychic had been pathetically easy to convince of his friendship. All one had to do was put on an understanding air and console him when his 'visions' were too much for him.

But Fran had overheard Dennis and Epps talking earlier, and had learned that Dennis no longer even had his visions. That would make it either much easier or much harder to gain the boy's trust, but he was the best option. And if something was to be done, it had to be done now.

Dennis squinted at the pages of the little wilderness survival handbook, wishing he had his reading glasses with him. They had been forgotten somewhere in the glass house in exchange for spectral viewers, and even those had fallen off when…

Finally deciding that the picture in the handbook didn't match the hermit crap he had in his other hand, he put the little guy back on the rocks and headed back up to the fire with the few edible shellfish he had managed to find. Just as he approached the rest of his group, Dennis saw Evelyn Price beckoning to him from the edge of the woods.

Raising his eyebrows in curiosity, Dennis followed her into the bushes.

She put a finger to her lips and led him farther back in the underbrush, where Francesca was waiting with hands on hips.

"Dennis," Evelyn purred with a bright smile. Dennis recognized it as the kind of smile that might mesmerize other men, but to Dennis, who had never been able to appreciate female companionship for obvious reasons, it just looked cheap.

It took a split second for Dennis to figure out what was going on here, and another for him to decide not to let on to them that he knew what they were up to. He plastered an answering smile on his face.

"Hey," he replied.

"We couldn't help but notice you were off by yourself a lot since we got back," Evelyn said with mocking concern. Did she really think she sounded sincere? "Have you had some sort of falling out with your 'friends'?"

She said the word as if she was doubtful of whether or not he considered the others friends. Deciding to play up the idiot act, Dennis answered, "Well, kinda, yeah."

"Ooh, poor boy," Francesca put in, batting her lashes. Dennis suddenly had the urge to laugh at her, but stifled it. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Uhhh, well…it's just that they don't appreciate how much work I'm doing," Dennis answered, getting into it now, "I mean, at the challenge today it was me keeping the platform going. But they won't admit it. It's kinda demoralizing."

He blinked benignly, afraid that even these two bimbos would never fall for that. But they did, to Dennis' surprise and amusement.

"Oh, but Dennis," Evelyn cooed, "We were just talking about how much you do for the tribe. How could anyone suggest otherwise?"

"I…I dunno." He said, not trusting himself to talk much lest he laugh and give everything away.

"Well, we could help you get back at them," Fran put in, "By voting one of them out tonight."

"Ummm…ok…"

"Katie," Evelyn added, "She really is a weak little thing, but she's got a brain in her head. She could become a bit of a problem, but that can be fixed if we take action right now."

The conversation went on this way for a few more minutes before Dennis could get away. By the time he got back to the fire, Epps was back from her walk. In a low voice, he replayed everything he had just been told to the others. Katie paled, which for her should have been impossible, and then blushed when he got to the part about her being a threat.

When he had finished, the alliance had made up their minds: Cyrus had to go this time, then next would be Evelyn.

As night started to descend on the Dark Isle, the black tribe took their map and headed out toward tribal council.

Hekasha waited breathlessly as the shadows of the island stretched and deepened in preparation for full night. The torches that she would hand out tonight stood in their stands behind the rows of logs positioned opposite the lectern where she stood, her black cape blowing in the early evening breeze.

Loud, disturbing noises sounded in the underbrush around her, probably the hunting cries of the various nocturnal – and very poisonous – predators that inhabited the island.

A large bonfire burned in the center of the tribal council area, illuminating the circular platform raised slightly above the forest floor. To her left, a wooden walkway led to the voting station. To the right, another walkway led to the beach. That was the way the contestants would be entering.

As if her gaze had conjured them, Hekasha instantly heard voices on the walkway. Straightening her cape and adjusting her skirts slightly, Hekasha turned to face her charges as they approached.

Watson came into sight first, closely followed by Arthur and Dennis. Then came Epps and Katie, with Cyrus dredging after them. Last, Francesca and Evelyn sauntered in.

Hekasha motioned for the tribe to take seats and once they had all chosen a stump to sit on she cleared her throat in a commanding fashion. They had all fallen silent when they had entered the council area, and they all now turned to look at her. She beamed around at them all, unwilling to believe how smoothly things had gone so far.

"Welcome, black tribe, to your very first tribal council. As you know, every tribal council you will attend from now on will result in one of you being banished from the tribe. Once you are banished, you are a marked man – or woman," she added, "and will have to survive on your own for as long as you can. Meanwhile, your former tribemates and the members of the red tribe will be offered a reward for killing you."

Grim looks and shifty glances accompanied this announcement. They had all heard the rules before but, as Hekasha had predicted, they hadn't really sunk in. She waited a few minutes for them to think about what was about to be decided, then she went on:

"As you will come to understand, fire is highly symbolic of life, on the island and in the game. If you look behind you, you will all find a torch with your name on it. Once you light your torch, it will not go out until you are dead. If you are banned from your tribe, I will take possession of your torch, and it will be kept here at the tribal council area until it goes out. Will each of you find your torch and light it from the bonfire now, if you please."

The tribe members all did this rather efficiently, and when they were seated Hekasha continued her speech:

"Now, when I call your name, you are to stand and proceed down that walkway, where your words will not be heard by the rest of the tribe. You will write the name of the tribe member you wish to banish clearly on a piece of parchment, then hold it up so it's visible and state why you are banishing this tribe member, or any other comments you wish to make. You are then to fold it in half and drop it into this ballot jar."

A human skull appeared in her hands, the top of the head loosened to make a lid. It vanished again and reappeared, out of sight, on the voting table.

"After that, you may return to your seat. Once everyone has gone, the votes will be tabulated and read."

"Maureen, you may go first."

Without so much as a word or a glance for the rest of her tribemates, Epps stood up and made her way to the voting station. Once there, she grabbed the black pen from where it rested next to the skull-shaped ballot box and wrote a name in big letters on one of the provided sheets of parchment. She held it up, feeing silly because, as far as she could tell, there was nobody out there. She said her piece, folded the parchment, and slipped it inside the skull.

When she returned and took her seat, Evelyn was called to the vote. She stood, gave Dennis an almost-imperceptible wink, and proceeded to the voting box.

"Sorry, Katie," she said, holding up the parchment with the girl's name on it, "But in life only the strong survive. I hate to do this to a child, but…"

With a cruel, self-satisfied smirk, Evelyn also folded her parchment and put it in the skull.

Next went Cyrus, then Watson, then Francesca. After that went Katie, who had to stand on tiptoe to be visible over the voting lectern while she made her speech. Next went Dennis, who came back with a look of grim satisfaction on his face.

Finally, it was Arthur's turn. He scribbled on his parchment and then held it up, revealing the name 'CYRUS' written in big letters.

"You demented old coot," he spat at the supposedly empty jungle, "You're not welcome anywhere near me after what you did. I will win this game and get back to my kids, and you'll rot forever in the jungle. Who's the pathetic one now?"

Once Arthur had returned to his seat, Hekasha roused herself from what looked to be a deep reverie.

"Right," she chirped, "I'll go tabulate the votes."

There was a few moments of tense waiting after Hekasha had disappeared to the voting station, none of the tribe members speaking or looking at one another.

Finally, Hekasha reappeared, seeming to spring forth from the shadows in her dark cloak.

"You must understand," she began, "That once the votes are read the decision is final. If a majority vote is certain before all the ballots are read, I will not read the remaining votes. The votes will not necessarily be read in order of who voted first, to help keep them a secret. Once a decision is apparent, I will call up the banished tribe member and confiscate their torch. From that moment, it is in effect open season on that person, so I suggest they leave the tribal council area immediately. Is that all clear?"

There were some nods and grunts, but nobody voiced any confusion, so Hekasha reached into the skull and extracted the first ballot. She held it up for the tribe to see and read the name out loud.

"Cyrus."

The old man's expression did not change as the next vote was pulled out.

"Katie."

The reaction was immediate. Katie gasped in horror while Epps put a supporting hand on the girl's shoulder and Arthur patted her hand.

"It's okay," he whispered as the next vote was held up.

"Cyrus. That's two for Cyrus, one for Katie."

Katie whimpered.

"Katie. That's two for Cyrus, two for Katie."

Katie now had tears of horror in her eyes, and Evelyn and Francesca wore identical smirks. Dennis wrapped his arms around Katie, who was starting to shake.

"Cyrus."

The old man remained emotionless, certain that the two women he had allied with had succeeded in winning Dennis to their cause. He was sitting in front of the psychic and obviously didn't see the way the young man was comforting Katie.

"Katie. That means three votes each for Cyrus and Katie."

Epps' nails dug into Katie's shoulder. Dennis wouldn't have betrayed them, would he…?

"Cyrus. That's four for Cyrus, three for Katie. Now, in case of a tie, there will be a tiebreaker in the form of drawing straws. And it looks like I'll have to read the last vote…"

Hekasha's hand scrabbled inside the skull jar for a moment before pulling out the last vote. She opened the parchment dramatically and took forever, it seemed, to read it.

"And the first person banned from Dark Castle Survivor is Cyrus Kriticos."

At that, she turned the sheet of paper so the tribe could read the name of the old sorcerer written clearly on it.

Cyrus appeared to be in shock. He was yelling furiously at Francesca and Evelyn, who were ignoring him to turn, scandalized, to stare at Dennis. Dennis still had his arms around Katie, who was weeping with relief. The psychic flashed a nasty smile at Evelyn before turning to talk nonchalantly with Watson.

"Cyrus," demanded Hekasha, "If you will please give me your torch…"

"No!" shouted Cyrus, "I demand a recount! I…"

But at that moment, all protest was silenced by a wave of Hekasha's hand. Cyrus appeared to be frozen solid, all except his eyes, which whirled around furiously in their sockets.

With a look of slight disgust, Hekasha crossed to the seating area and, reaching with a smile over Katie's still-weeping form, grabbed Cyrus's torch. She swept back to where she had been standing and slipped the torch into a stand behind her. Turning to face the tribe, she announced, "Cyrus Kriticos, you are hereby marked for execution. The first to catch and kill him after he leaves the tribal council area tonight will receive a reward to be specified at the time it is given. This reward will also be offered to the red tribe. Cyrus, the tribe has spoken. You may now run for your life."

And with another wave of her hand, Cyrus was again mobile. This time, he did not shout, but picked himself up and ran, followed by Hekasha's mocking laughter. After a few moments, her laughter spread to all the members of the black tribe, except Francesca and Evelyn, who were looking very, very nervous.

"You may now take your torches and return to your camp," Hekasha said once she had calmed herself down, "Goodnight and good fortune."

And just like that, Hekasha spun around once and disappeared.


End file.
